All He Wrote // Phan AU

Chapter 0.8

Oh what is this?

A new chapter?

After months?

Yes you are correct. I started this story so long ago you have no idea its been like a year. I already think it's very cringe so I think I'm going to binge write this over the next day or so and see if I can finish for ya'll.

I hope you enjoy.

Remember there's always something good around the corner and there is somebody who loves you.

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Maroon - love and appreciation, usually associated with a romantic interest. Synonyms: love, appreciation, adoration, infatuation.

Dan's P.O.V

The lilac, the white, the black.

A contrast I can get behind.

The subtle shade of purple is pretty, the way Phil contorts his wrists in perfect sweeping motions to create planets. New life. A whole new galaxy that he can build from dust and granite with his own two hands. This is what miracles are made of.

His hands.

His eyes.

His smile.

His inexplicable propensity toward hope.

And happiness.

A miracle.

He is a miracle. The miracle. The miracle I always hoped for in a pack of tarot cards. The one that says, 'something is going to come into your life and change it."

I picked lilac, instead of black.

And I would pick his happiness over my own.

And I realised that when I lay down my head and painted myself around his flued wrist movements and propensity for hope. Eyes alight and lips parted. A lopsided smile with the subtle beginnings of a smirk that he does not possess the self-confidence for. But it's there.

Tingle on my neck. He's watching.

Hair twitch, table move, aftershave. He's leant over me.

But still, midnight blue.

The midnight blue of the sky at 1:46am last night at a 50 degree angle from where I stood on the cold, dew covered grass.

That is the colour. The colour of my next pencil, the colour of his jolt when I sit up to grab it, the colour of his smile when I do.

That smile. Those eyes. The light freckles on his nose. The porcelain likeness of his skin and the red of his lips. That smile

Gone

What are you staring at?

Lopsided smirk.

Blush.

Midnight blue. Pencil to paper. Building galaxies from dust, granite, and miracles. 

Phil's P.O.V

He put his head back down near my page and started shading around the outside of the planets lightly in a dark blue that reminds me of the colour of my ceiling. One curl from the top of his head has fallen back onto my arm that has been resting behind his back. His shoulder is slumped in an almost unsavoury way leaving the curve of his neck exposed. Small sun spots I never noticed before searching for the warmth of the sun. Or the heat death of the universe, who knows?

But as he slowly cranes his head to look up at me I drag my eyes away from the constellations I had fathomed beneath his skin and I fall back beneath the tidal waters of those puppy dog eyes and the pale watermelon of his parted lips. I cock my head slightly to the side and chuckle under my breath, earning a little smile and a blush. The blood in his lightly tanned cheeks softens them, makes him look healthier than when he did when he walked into the room 20 minutes prior. Slightly more alive than usual.

I had almost forgotten we were locked up in the classroom. Dan's head on my desk, doodling dreary eyed as if half asleep. Unwillingly taking my eyes off him I return my focus to the teacher as she goes through yet another slideshow on World War 2. I take my notes in lilac pencil by the bottom of the page as not to disturb Dan. The gruesome facts of humanity staining our history the same way they stain the beautiful pages that we both in turn placed our mark upon.

We have created something new, with next to no history.

About 2 history lessons of it in fact.

And even now I can feel Dan's breathing slow and the pencil fall limp in his grip. I have known this boy for 2 history lessons and already he's falling asleep on my desk.

What a dork.

But this is the kind of friendship that people dream of when they're alone at 2am. The type of friendship where you just... click. There are no words involved, none meaningful nor spoken. Just a warmth, a magnetic field that draws you in. And he has his own.

But the clock is ticking away and although he looks awfully comfortable and slightly cute lying splayed across my desk I know I must wake him before the bell. I take my pencil from his hand and place my hand on the soft curve of his neck that I've been staring at this whole time. And although I know he has to wake up I kind of don't want him to. I slide my hand up the arc of his collar bone to his shoulder and lightly squeeze. His eyelashes flutter and his legs curl further onto his chair as he arches his back into my chest and falls straight back onto the table. I lightly squeeze his side this time, his stomach and chest tense by the way his body jolts and his eyes flash open and look straight into mine. Labrador brown and just as irresistible. He takes one deep breath and softens into my touch.

"You gotta wake up now Dan the bell will go any minute."

And as we look around the kids are already beginning to pack up their bags to leave.

Dan heavily pushes himself up from the desk and I offer to help but he declines with a melancholic smile and a shake of the head. He packs what limited things he pulled out from his bag to study with and I put away my pencils and art book. He glances back over to me with a childlike expression and I grin back like the fool I am but I can feel the confidence radiating through my pores. I can feel the warmth in my cheeks, not from embarrassment or awkwardness, its just warmth. My heart beating faster, the slight pain in my chest. The confidence.

And before I have the chance to lose it or think anything through the bell rings through the hollow walls and I grab Dan by the arm.

"Hey, do you wanna come to my house one night."

Whatever has taken over me narrowed my eyes and plastered on a cheeky smile but Dan, mirroring my exact expression in a softer way, nods slowly and chuckles as he leaves the room.